Dead Remnants

Chapter 1: PEOPLE IN HATS CAN'T BE TRUSTED

It's just your imagination.
It's just your imagination.
It's just your imagination.

Ashen Deming gulped down her dread and glanced behind her. Nope; not her imagination. In the last seat of the bus, some guy—some creepy guy—leered at her. It was clear he hadn't showered in weeks. Black and gray tangles sprouted from his scalp. His pallid tinge coupled with his paper-white lips reminded her of an old, mangled mannequin.

She took a deep, even breath. At least she wasn't riding alone.

An elbow nudged her side. "Earth to Ashen?"

"Huh?"

"I said, 'What do you think of them?'" Her best friend, Jacob, pointed at her neck. From a pair of dangling headphones, Bon Jovi blared about giving love a bad name. "Rad, aren't they?"

"I guess they're not awful."

Jacob's features clouded. "Ungrateful. Last time I share my tapes with you."

"Dude!"

"Kidding, kidding. But you gotta listen to my new favorite song." With a cocky grin, he snatched the Walkman from her. "I'll drag you into the modern era even if it kills me."

Guitar riffs filtered from the headphones as Jacob messed with the fast-forward button, each belted ballad interrupted by a screech whenever the cassette started, stopped, then started again. Ashen wiggled her leg up and down, jostling the plastic container on her lap. Through the perforated clear lid she could see her box turtle poke his head out from the shredded newspaper covering him. He looked up at her and blinked.

"Sorry, Langhorne." She clasped her knee to quell her nervousness, but the act did nothing to ease the queasy sensation in her stomach. "Didn't make you motion sick, did I?"

Blink.

"Good. Not too much longer, okay? Twenty minutes, tops."

Her turtle's low-key response made her smile. She hated making him travel like this. Her options, however, were limited. Although the kids at the Children's Home loved Langhorne and could certainly use a pet to brighten their days, Ashen hadn't been able to convince herself to abandon him there. He had become her unwitting security blanket, and ever since that cowboy hat-wearing shadow had attacked her when she was little, she could use all the calming she could get.

"Jacob, I uh," she shivered at the memory before clearing her throat. "I didn't get to say thanks earlier. For coming to get me. And Langhorne."

"Of course! Couldn't make you two wait till the weekend to get out of that place. Must've been terrible."

"It wasn't so bad. Better than living with Mom, mostly. Just..." She shrugged. "Sad. The Home is all those kids have."

"Yeah, I guess. Too bad my parents couldn't pick you up, though. Would've been a lot faster." He crinkled his nose. "Less grody smelling, too."

"Honestly, I'm just glad they're gonna foster me for the last few months of senior year. You know, before I have to go get a job and become a legitimate adult. It'll be nice to get back to some kind of normal."

"Boring, you mean?" Jacob laughed. "Anyway, you deserve a little more normal in your life, Ash."

She smoothed the mess of tight, chestnut coils piled on top of her head as she studied Jacob, her emotions alternating between annoyance and fondness. Jacob was a good guy. Though only an inch or two taller than she was, what he lacked in height, he made up for with a handsome face and athletic build. He was responsible. He was dependable. And after her mother's abused liver had finally given out more than a year ago, when Ashen's father hadn't bothered to save her from becoming a ward of the Children's Home, Jacob had done the one thing no one else had managed. Been there for her.